Harry Potter and the Lacuna in The Oracle
by SarahTSJ
Summary: Harry goes back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for his 6th year burdened with a new threat which no one wants him to find out - a typical Harry Potter story.
1. Growing Up

The warm summer breeze drifted in through the open windows of Harry Potter's bedroom. Harry was lying on his bed, staring intently at the clear, blue morning sky outside as though hoping and expecting something to drop out from it. After a while though, he seemed to have given up. He sat up on his bed, yawned and stretched. Then he got dressed and made his way downstairs into the kitchen.  
  
The three Dursleys were already awake and were halfway through breakfast when he entered. Ever since he came back for the summer holidays, Harry had felt very uncomfortable to be in the same room as his relatives. He didn't know why. He just wanted to avoid them for some very strange reasons. When he came to think about it, it was rather ironic because it was usually the Dursleys who didn't want to be in the same room as him. He didn't mind, of course, as they treated him almost as well as a pile of bat droppings. But he never actually avoided them like he did now either. Harry couldn't understand the abrupt change in himself. He decided to retreat back to his lonely bedroom and only come down for breakfast when the Dursleys were done.  
  
Slowly, and lazily, Harry shifted his feet and made for the stairs. None of the Dursleys gave any signs that he'd walked into the kitchen; and none of them called out for him to join them. Harry didn't care. He was far to used to their ill manners towards him to care.  
  
Harry had been living with his uncle, aunt and cousin ever since the age of one - ever since his parents were murdered by the most powerful and feared dark wizard of the century, and he had always been as welcome as dirt on their sparkling, clean floor.  
  
Back in his room, Harry felt an odd sense of relief. Till now, he hadn't realised that his heart had been beating loudly and hard against his chest. Harry walked over to his bed, frowning. Where had the sense of relief come from? What in the first place had caused him to feel it? He had to be losing his mind. The lightning shaped scar on his forehead had been hurting so frequently Harry was sure that sooner or later he would have a severe brain damage.  
  
That scar on his forehead was the reason why Harry Potter was famous in the other world. It was also the reason why he had to live with the Dursleys even though he loathed them as much as they do to him. Before Harry was born, a prophecy was made about him by his Divination teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Not knowing the full contents of the prophecy, Lord Voldermort had acted rashly and tried to kill Harry, thinking that he would then fulfill the prophecy. But instead, the killing curse had rebounded upon the originator and Voldermort himself was nearly killed. Harry had since then been known as the 'Boy Who Lived' by those in the magical community.  
  
But now, Voldermort had returned from the brink of death. It had taken Harry and those who believed him the whole of last year to convince the Minister for Magic of Voldermort's return but the stubborn Minister refused to believe and had prefered to prove that Harry was delusional.  
  
Harry heaved a sigh as he remembered how the Ministry had finally believed him and Professor Dumbledore. Harry checked his alarm clock. Good, he had been up here for almost an hour. The Dursleys had to be done by now. He was just crossing the room to the door when he felt something brush past him. Harry turned around and saw his snow white owl settling itself on top of a wardrobe.  
  
"Hey, Hedwig." Harry called to it. "You haven't gotten anything for me have you?" Hedwig stared unblinkingly at him. Harry's heart fell. "I guess not, huh? Well, see you later Hedwig." said Harry and he went out of his room.  
  
The Dursleys had gone out. After a quick breakfast of cold toast and butter, Harry went back up to his room thinking that he might as well spend the rest of the miserable day talking to Hedwig or ... Hedwigs?  
  
Harry stopped short in the doorway. His eyes had to be deceiving him. How can there be two Hedwigs? He stared from one Hedwig to the other. They stared back. Then he noticed that one had a letter and parcel attached to its leg. Harry could make out faint scribblings from it. That means the other Hedwig would be the real Hedwig.  
  
He turned to the other Hedwig. "Hedwig?" he said uncertainly. Hedwig answered with a soft hoot.  
  
"So who might you be?" he asked the other owl.  
  
As though answering his question, the other snowy owl fluttered down from the top of the wardrobe, perched on top of Harry's study table and held out its leg. Harry relieved the letter and parcel off the owl's leg and unfolded it. He immediately recognised Ron Weasley, his best friend's, untidy handwriting.  
  
_Dear Harry,_ (it read)  
_Happy Birthday! ..._   
  
Harry's heart skipped a beat. His birthday! Today was his birthday! He had totally forgotten about it. He read on.  
  
_... I'm at you-know-where now.(You do know where, don't you?) Mum reminded me not to put it in this letter in case Ford here got intercepted. But it isn't like I haven't got brains! I know what should be put in and what shouldn't!   
Anyway, I hope the Dursleys are not treating you too badly. You know you can always threaten them about what Moody said at King's Cross. I'd love to see the expressions on their faces.   
I can't write much now Harry. We just arrived at you-know-where this morning (Hermione's coming later this evening) and mum has already set up chores for us to do. When will this house ever get clean?!  
I expect you would be joining us next week. Dumbledore told us that you had to stay only a month at Privet Drive, so I guess it be only a matter of time before he send some to get you.  
Be seeing you soon,  
Ron  
_  
Harry folded up the letter. He knew exactly where Ron was - number 12 Grimmauld Place in London. That was where Sirius, his godfather, lived. Used to live, Harry reminded himself coldly. His heart swelled with anger at the thought. Sirius had lived there! He was not very happy at being trapped in that house again but he was alive! Bellatrix Lestrange had killed him! How Harry hated her. She had taken away the closest thing he ever had to a father he never knew. He would not let her off the next time he saw her, he was sure of that. I'll kill you, thought Harry, gritting his teeth. A second later, he felt disgusted with himself. Was he going to descend to the level of the Deatheaters? Was he really going to kill? Harry didn't know.   
  
He sat down on his bed, hand still clutching Ron's letter. Ron had said that Harry would most likely be able to join the following week at Grimmauld Place but now Harry wasn't so sure if he wanted to go back there. Yes, it would be good to go and leave the Dursleys, but Grimmauld Place held too many painful memories of Sirius alive and happy. Going there would be facing the truth that Sirius had died - something which Harry had been trying to convince himself otherwise.  
  
Torn between the exasperation of trying to decide whether he wanted to stay or leave, Harry buried his face in his hands. Maybe he should leave, he thought. That way, he would feel more at ease ... about what? Came a voice. More at ease about what? A new, bizzare thought came across his mind. Had he wanted to leave Privet Drive because he actually wanted to save the Dursleys from harm, knowing pretty well that Voldermort would do anything to get to him? When had he started thinking like that? Had he actually started to care about the Dursley family who had once and still made his life hell? So many unanswered questions. If only ... if only Sirius was still alive, Harry would be able to ask him for the answers. But Sirius wasn't alive. Harry would have to find the answers himself.  
  
"Wake up," he said, poking a sleeping Ford, "I've got a letter for you to deliver. Hold on." Ford looked unmistakably like his Hedwig, who was also asleep on top of the wardrobe. Harry wondered who he belonged to in the Weasley family.   
  
Then, making up his mind, Harry took out some parchment, quill and ink and started writing.  
_  
Dear Ron,_ (he wrote)  
_Thank you for the letter and parcel and yes, I know where you are. The Dursleys have been treating me the same ever since I got back. They're still ignoring me but who cares, life's better like that. I'd like to go to 'Where You Are' as soon as possible. I can't wait to leave this place.  
All the best,  
Harry  
_  
There, that'll give Ron as much as he needs to know. He didn't need to know that Harry had started feeling differently about the Dursleys. A thought struck Harry, maybe that was why he had been feeling uncomfortable around them, he was afraid that as absurd as it was, that Voldermort would burst in through the door and kill anyone with Harry, especially if they were muggles and unable to defend themselves. Harry had begun to realize that it was not worth it to hold a grudge against the Dursleys for so long just because they had given him a miserable childhood. There were other more pressing matters than this silly grudges. After all, the Dursleys had taken him in even when they despised his parents so much. It was a sacrifice on their part. They had to bring up another child who they dislike to the extend, but nevertheless, they had agreed. And no matter how much he had loathed uncle Vernon, aunt Petunia and Dudley, they were his only relatives. They were family.  
  
At that moment, Harry felt proud of himself. He could feel himself growing. He was getting older, more matured ...   
  
Harry was woken up the next morning by a shrill hoot in his ear. A moment later, he heard uncle Vernon's bellowing voice from the next room, " HARRY POTTER! SHUT THAT BLOODY BIRD UP!"  
  
Hmm...still the same, Harry thought, rubbing his eyes. Sighing, he turned to ask Hedwig to keep quiet but was shocked to find that it wasn't Hedwig who was hooting at all. Next to all the birthday presents and letters he had recieved yesterday, there were about six or seven owls perched on his table, all staring at him with their big, round eyes. Apparently one of them must have been tired of waiting for Harry to wake up and decided to give its own version of a morning call.  
  
This must be it, Harry thought excitedly and anxiously. This must be what he had been waiting for the whole month - apart from leaving the Dursleys, of course. This was the reason why he had been staring out at the sky every day. But need they send him so many owls?  
  
He relieved the owls off their letters - some were even carrying parcels; Harry couldn't think why - and they flew off. He picked up the first letter, opened it and his heart fell. No, this was not what he had expected.   
  
"... I think you're really brave (Harry snorted). Maybe we could be friends. Happy Belated Birthday ..." Harry read the letter quietly to himself. He put it down and opened a few of the other letters, his heart sinking lower and lower as he opened them. They were all the same - all letters from fans; which was something he didn't need right now. He picked up another letter. This one bore the Hogwarts crest and Harry felt something burning with anxiety in his chest. This was the one he was waiting for. He tore it open.  
  
He pulled out the first page of parchment within and read:  
  
_Dear Mr Potter,   
Please note that the new school year would begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross Station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock.  
You will also find the results of your O.W.Ls and a list of books for next year is enclosed.  
Yours sincerely,  
Professor M. McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress.  
_  
Harry took out the results of his O.W.Ls with shaking hands.  
_  
Mr Potter,  
We are pleased to inform you of your results for the O.W.L examination. The results are as shown. Please be reminded that this result would affect your classes for N.E.W.Ts and your future career.  
  
Transfiguration - Exceed Expectations  
Charms - Exceed Expectations  
Potions - Acceptable  
History of Magic - Poor  
Care of Magical Creatures - Outstanding   
Defence Against the Dark Arts - Oustanding  
Divination - Dreadful  
Astronomy - Acceptable  
Herbology - Outstanding  
_  
Harry stared at his results and couldn't help beaming. He had only failed two subjects. He had passed the rest. He had even gotten an 'Acceptable' for his Potions! Now there's nothing stopping him from being an Auror. Wait, a voice said suddenly. What was it that Professor McGonagall had said when she was giving him career advice? Harry remembered. She had said something like: "... Professor Snape absolutely refuses to take students who get anything other than 'Outstanding' in their O.W.Ls ... " He, Harry, had only gotten an 'Acceptable'. Would he still be able to continue Potions? If he couldn't, he's dreams about becoming an Auror might as well be shattered because according to Professor McGonagall, "... poisons and antidotes are essential study for Aurors ..." Staring at the parchment in his hands, Harry tried not to think too much about it. When the time comes he will know, he decided, and he would start worrying then.


	2. Aunt Marge

Since he had nothing better to do, Harry continued reading his other 'fan-mails' with a lighter heart than he did before knowing his O.W.L results.

"... I just hope that we could be friends. You're my hero ... " Harry laughed, as he read the letters. All the letters were the same. They all wanted to be his friends just because he was famous again and they were all sending birthday wishes and gifts. He was the 'Boy Who Lived' again. Harry doubted that they had wanted to be his friends a few months ago when the Daily Prophet had been reporting that he was just an attention seeker.

"What's so funny?" demanded a voice, startling Harry so much that he nearly fell off his chair. He turned around from his pile of letters and saw his cousin, Dudley, standing in the doorway of his room.

"What's that you've got there?" he demanded again, trying to peer over Harry's head at the letters. Harry decided to tell him. After all there was nothing confidential about them.

"They're fan-mails. For me," he added calmly.

"Fan-mails for what?" asked Dudley, obviously curious that his first punchbag could recieve so much attention.

"For jinxing some people who provoked me," answered Harry, delightfully savouring the expression forming on Dudley's enormous face.

"Jinx ... jinxing? But ... but you can't do m ... magic here ... Y ... You'll get expelled," stammered Dudley, going white.

"Oh yeah? What makes you so sure? I got away the last time didn't I, Big D?" said Harry, thoroughly enjoying himself. Even though he didn't hate Dudley anymore, Harry couldn't help wanting to scare and taunt him. Besides, it was fun. He edged slowly towards Dudley, trying to look as threatening as he could while straining to keep his face straight. He reached towards his wand which he had always kept in the waistband of his jeans. Dudley got paler and paler but was too scared to move, apparently thinking that Harry was going to jinx him.

"DAD! DAD!" Dudley started shouting for uncle Vernon. Harry hastened to stow away the wand he had taken out as he heard the pounding of Uncle Vernon's footsteps coming up the stairs. "DAD! HE'S DOING YOU-KNOW-WHAT!" shouted Dudley again.

Uncle Vernon appeared seconds later, his big face flushed red and he looked furious. "What is it, Dudders?" Uncle Vernon asked. Dudley just pointed at Harry who tried to look innocent. He could sense that trouble was coming.

"Did he threaten you, Dudders?" Dudley nodded, still staring wide-eyed at Harry.

"I - I -" started Harry, trying to defend himself, but Uncle Vernon rounded on him.

"What have I said about doing you-know-what in this household, boy?" whispered Uncle Vernon through gritted teeth. "How many times have I warned you abut threatening my family," he continued again with the same treacherous tone, "One more time and I swear ..."

"Sorry ..." Harry mumbled softly.

Uncle Vernon's mouth dropped open and he stared at Harry. Dudley, who had started to enjoy watching his father bullying Harry with a smirk on his face, now goggled at him. Harry had never apologized to the Dursleys before. Never, in his fifteen years of living with them, had he said the word 'sorry'.

Uncle Vernon looked taken aback. He stood staring at Harry, clearly thinking what to say about the apology but couldn't seem to know how to respond, because he said instead, "Go brush your hair. Marge'll be arriving any moment and I want you downstairs!" and he and Dudley left a very appalled Harry standing in his room.

Dinner that night was as bad as dinner with Aunt Marge could ever be. Aunt Marge seemed to have forgotten that  three summers ago, Harry had accidentally inflated her. The Ministry of Magic must have done a great job at modifying her memory. Too bad they couldn't change her attitude towards me too, Harry thought bitterly to himself.

Aunt Marge was a very large, beefy woman who even had a moustache which was quite similar to her brother's, Uncle Vernon. Harry had never liked Aunt Marge; and likewise. Every of her visits to Privet Drive made Harry's life, if possible, even worse and Harry doubted that this time would be any different. Sure enough, the moment Aunt Marge had caught sight of him standing in the doorway of number 4, she had grunted her disapproval.

"Honestly, Petunia. I seriously don't understand how you and Vernon could cope with that," she jerked her large purple face towards Harry, "boy all these years. Never should have allowed it in the first place, if you asked me! But of course, you and Vernon have always been kind, thoughtful and decent (Harry supressed a snort with difficulty) compared to his worthless, good-for-nothing pa -"

Harry's face suddenly burned with anger. Uncle Vernon must have noticed it and remembered the last time Aunt Marge had insulted Harry's parents because he hastily ushered her into the kitchen before she could finish her sentence and changing the subject along the way. Aunt Petunia turned around and hissed at Harry to bring Aunt Marge's suitcase up the stairs. Well, at least one thing has improved, Harry thought miserably to himself, she didn't bring Ripper along.

Aunt Marge lived alone in the country, in a house with a large garden where she spend her time breeding her bulldogs. Ripper was one of her favorite dogs and he was always brought along when she visited, making Harry's life hell everytime the duo came to stay.

After dinner, in which Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia - obviously trying to prevent history from repeating itself - had managed to sway Aunt Marge away everytime she started on Harry, they all settled into the Dursleys living room. Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, Dudley and Aunt Marge were all watching television. Harry wished that he could be in his room all alone, rather than being with Aunt Marge who was likely to start criticising him at any moment. But one look at Uncle Vernon and he knew he had to stay.

Harry stared at the television screen. The news was on, and all too soon, Harry saw a familiar face. One he loathed and hated beyond all others.

She had long, dark hair that looked unkempt and straggly, though Harry had seen it sleek, thick and shining. She glared at him from the screen through heavily lidded eyes, an arrogant, disdainful smile played around her thin mouth. Just like Sirius had been before he died, she retained vestiges of great good looks. It was her. Bellatrix Lestrange. The one who murdered Sirius.

Without thinking, Harry whipped out his wand. Preparing to strike, but a pounding in his ears brought Harry back to his senses. Uncle Vernon had just punched him on the head.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Uncle Vernon hissed in his ears. "Put that thing away!"

What was he thinking?! Was he, Harry, so obsessed in hunting down Bellatrix and revenging Sirius' death that he had forgotten everything at the sight of her face? Harry hurriedly tucked his wand away, looked up and saw the Dursleys all staring at him. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley all surveyed him with unmistakable fear in their eyes. Aunt Marge, on the other hand, obviously thought he was insane because she muttered to Aunt Petunia who was sitting beside her, "I'd send him away quickly before he gets all winded up there ... why did you allow him to bring in a mouldy old stick like that?"

Harry pretended not to hear her and focused his attention back onto the television. Faces of the other Death Eaters who had gotten away showed up one by one on the screen. Harry wondered for a moment why these Death Eaters could appear in the muggle news but thought he knew better. Three summers ago, when Sirius had escaped from Azkaban and was supposedly dangerous, Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic himself had informed the muggle Prime Minister of the crisis. Fudge must have found the need to do so again but Harry doubted if it'll help, especially with Voldermort around aiding his suppoters' escape.

"AAAIIIIII!!!!!!"

Harry's thoughts were shattered by a loud shriek that nearly made him fall of his couch in his stupor. As though this was the signal Harry had been waiting for, he unleashed his wand again and looked around for the source of commotion. It turned out to be Aunt Marge and Harry didn't need another blow on his head tell him that he had to keep his wand. Harry saw at once what was bothering Aunt Marge.

Twittering madly, zooming round and round her head was Pig, Ron's minute owl, only about the size of Harry's palm. Aunt Petunia's lips were pursed like she always did when something disagreed with her and she seemed fit to explode any moment at the racket Pig was making. Uncle Vernon, however, glared at Harry and bellowed, "GET THAT BLOODY BIRD OUT OF HERE!"

Harry quickly snatched Pigwidgeon out of the air and ran up to his bedroom. He could still hear the hysterical screams of Aunt Marge followed by Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's attempt at calming her through his open door. That was the first time he had ever heard Aunt Marge scream and to think it was over a small matter like that. Harry couldn't help grinning, even when he knew he would have to face his uncle later. Never had it come across him that big, burly Aunt Marge, as mean as her bulldogs, would be so afraid of something so tiny and harmless. But that wasn't the first time he'd ever encountered someone with bird phobia. When Harry was twelve, he remembered vividly a guest of Uncle Vernon who had a similar reaction to Aunt Marge when it came to birds. But still, when it came to Aunt Marge ... Harry couldn't control himself any longer and burst out laughing, Pigwidgeon still hooting happily in his hands.

Harry managed to calm himself down after a while. Still holding Pig, he headed for his study table. It was still stacked with the many letters he had received that morning. That morning, he remembered, that morning, he was so different. It was true that after receiving his O.W.L results he had been breathing easier, but that doesn't mean he had forgotten about Lord Voldermort or he was over Sirius' death. His woes were still there and he was fighting hard to forget it and relax but he couldn't. At least not until he had been given the alarming news that Aunt Marge was coming to stay ...

And it struck Harry. When he had heard that Aunt Marge was coming to stay, he was so shocked that it had driven everything out of his mind the whole day, up till now. For those few precious hours, he had been living like a normal boy, not a care in the world except for an Aunt who made his life miserable. But now, after just seeing Bellatrix's face on the television, all his woe had returned making him feel horrible again.

Harry untied the envelope attached to Pigwidgeon's leg and the owl flew off into Hedwig's cage and took a gulp of water.

There were three pieces of paper in the envelope. Harry unfolded the first one and read it. It was from Ron. What is it now? Harry thought to himself.

_Dear Harry,_

_Dumbledore's told us! He'd be sending someone over to fetch you on Thursday. I'm still not sure what time. I'll get back to you on that._

_Anyway, guess what?! I've got my O.W.L results! I can't believe I did so well! Hermione's got her's too. Have you gotten yours?_

_Here, I've send you a copy of our results._

_See you soon,_

_Ron._

_P.S. Hermione says hi._

Harry finished reading and feeling slightly happier that Dumbledore had not forgotten him, pulled out another piece of paper from the envelope. It was Hermione's results.

_Defence Against The Dark Arts - Exceed Expectation_

_Potions - Outstanding_

_Ancient Runes - Exceed Expectation_

_Care of Magical Creatures - Outstanding_

_History of Magic - Outstanding_

_Charms - Exceed Expectation_

_Herbology - Outstanding_

_Transfiguration - Outstanding_

_Astronomy - Outstanding_

_Arithmancy - Outstanding_

Harry wasn't the least bit surprised to see Hermione's results. Hermione had a reputation as the cleverest witch in her year. Maybe even the whole of Hogwarts, Harry thought. But Harry was still surprised that she had not gotten an 'Outstanding' for her Charms. Hermione had after all gotten a hundred and twelve percent for one of her exams on Charms. Ron on the other hand, was a different matter.

_Defence Against The Dark Arts - Exceed Expectations_

_Potions - Acceptable_

_Divination - Dreadful_

_History of Magic - Acceptable_

_Care of Magical Creatures - Outstanding_

_Charms - Exceed Expectation_

_Astronomy - Exceed Expectation_

_Transfiguration - Exceed Expectation_

_Herbology - Outstanding_

Ron's results were much more acceptable than Hermione's which had seemed too perfect. Even so, his results were better than Harry's. Harry couldn't help it. He was jealous of Ron again; like the time he did last summer when they found out that Ron was chosen to be a prefect. Harry had been so sure it was going to be him, not Ron. Harry felt sick with himself at that thought and he began to have the same conflict with himself as he did last summer. Did he really believe he was better than Ron just because he made it out of their life-risking adventures alive? No, he thought. People were different in many ways. There had to be a few times where Ron would do better than him and as Ron's best friend, he would have to except it.

Harry took out his quill and parchment and started writing back.

_Dear Ron and Hermione,_

_Congratulations on your results! You did really well, mate, and Hermione, your result was almost perfect. I've also send you a copy of my own results. I just got it this morning._

_I'm can't wait for Thursday,_

_Harry._

_P.S. Thank you for your present Hermione._

After sending Pigwidgeon back with the letter, Harry went to cross out a day off the calender he had made. Good, tomorrow was Wednesday. He would be leaving Privet Drive on Thursday. He couldn't wait. Just then, he heard the pounding of footsteps coming up the stairs and knew he was in for a big trouble with Uncle Vernon.


	3. Shock and Despair

To Harry's greatest relief, Thursday arrived very soon but still not quite soon enough. Harry had to endure Aunt Marge's snide comments about him from the moment he woke up till the very last second before he fell asleep. She ranted on about how he brought dark creatures of the night (owls), into the house and about how unworthy he was to live with the Dursleys. Surprisingly, though, Harry had managed not to loose control. He thought he ought to be congratulated for that.

Harry woke up very early on Thursday, just before the break of dawn. He wanted to be prepaired for the arrival of his guards because he didn't know when they would be coming; Ron had not written back to him about it. After pacing his room for almost two hours, straining his ears for any odd sounds from the kitchen - he remembered how they had gotten in the last time - he heard the Dursleys making their way down the stairs. Harry felt sick at the thought that he would still have to face Aunt Marge that morning but he got dressed anyway and left down the stairs for a quick breakfast.

As he entered the kitchen, Uncle Vernon looked up. "A word with you, boy. In the hall, now!"

Looking puzzled, Harry went into the hall with Uncle Vernon following him. When he had shut the kitchen door, Uncle Vernon bend so close to Harry that it was even possible to count the hair in his moustache, then he said so very quietly, "Your freaky friends are coming to get you, is it not?"

Before Harry could answer, Aunt Marge came in. Harry could catch a glimpse of Dudley and Aunt Petunia looking horrified in the kitchen. Uncle Vernon, however, was unaware that Aunt Marge was in the hall with them.

"Well, answer me boy! Are those freaky people from your school coming to get you or not?" he said louder.

"Erm ..." Harry looked uncertainly at Aunt Marge who had opened her mouth.

"Ho!" she barked so loudly behind her unexpecting brother, causing him to leap in fright. "So your school has send someone for you!"

"Er ... Marge - " started Uncle Vernon, afraid that his sister might find out the truth about Harry, but Aunt Marge cut him off.

"Good!" she said. "I'll be having a word with them about your reckless behaviour here and I'm going to make sure you get all the thrashing you deserve."

"Marge, I don't think it'll be a very good idea," said Aunt Petunia who had just joined them.

"Oh yes it is!" She said, glowering at Harry and she marched back into the kitchen to continue her breakfast. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon exchanged glances.

"Well?" Uncle Vernon turning back on Harry again, his teeth gritted.

"I guess so," Harry answered uncertainly.

"What do you mean by that? Explain!"

"They didn't tell me what time they're going to come!" Harry nearly shouted.

"Then how are we going to keep Marge away?!"

Harry just shrugged. It wasn't his problem after all. Why should he care if she found he was a wizard?

"Fine! Back to your room, boy!" snarled Uncle Vernon.

"What! I haven't even eaten breakfast!" exclaimed Harry.

"Then go," whispered Aunt Petunia dangerously, "and stay out of sight after you're done."

"Gladly," Harry muttered under his breath as he made his way back into the kitchen. He just didn't get how the Dursleys got so uptight about stuff like this.

After finishing his breakfast as fast as possible, Harry kept 'out of sight' just like Aunt Petunia wanted him to. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were still trying to talk Aunt Marge out of 'reporting' Harry. Harry could hear their fruitless attempts as he hurried around his room, packing everything he owned into his trunk.

When Harry had finished stuffing everything into his trunk, he found out that it wouldn't close. He press hard on top, but it still wouldn't close. Groaning, Harry began taking out his belongings one by one; folding his socks and robes, staking them neatly on top of one another. He took out his school items too and arranged them properly. Then something caught his eyes - something that had laid forgotten at the very bottom of his trunk ever since he came back for the holidays. The mirror Sirius had given to him just before he left for Hogwarts after the Christmas holidays last year.

'I want you to use it if you need me, alright?' Sirius had said, shoving the package into Harry's hands. Forbidden memories of the year before came rushing back into Harry's mind. How stupid he had been! If only he had remembered what Sirius had said! It was all his fault that Sirius died. Hermione had been right, Harry thought. It was a trick of Voldermort to get him there. If only he had listen to Hermione and think straight, Sirius would still be alive. So many if only's ... he held back the tears that had threatened to roll down his cheeks.

Harry picked up the broken mirror. He had only found out what the package contained when it was too late and he had flung it away in anger. Harry stared stupidly at the broken mirror as though willing it to repair itself. Then, all of a sudden, he shouted into it, "SIRIUS!" Nothing happened. Harry hadn't expected anything to anyway, still, there was a part of him which actually believed Sirius' face might appear on the shattered pieces of the mirror. But no, only his reflection stared back at him. Not Sirius ...

"Harry?" a gentle voice right beside him spoke. Harry leapt four feet into the air in fright. It couldn't be! he thought.

"Sirius! You're alive!" Harry couldn't believe it! He turned quickly around, face to face with ... Lupin.

Harry's face fell. For one moment, his hopes had been soaring high. For one moment, he had thought Sirius was alive. Lupin smiled at him.

"Do I sound so much like dear, old Padfoot?" he asked Harry kindly.

"I'm - I'm sorry. I was just thinking ..." Harry tried to explain.

"It's okay. We miss him too." Lupin told him. Harry became aware that there were still tears in his eyes. Pretending to put the mirror he was holding into his trunk, Harry used his free hand to wipe away the tears. Looking up, he saw his ex-Defence Against the Dark Arts professor looking down at him. Harry had suddenly realised Lupin was in his room.

"Professor Lupin! How did you get here?" Harry asked.

"Just apparated," said Lupin.

"But - but I didn't hear you."

"That's because you were too busy staring at the mirror," said Lupin patiently. "Ah, I see it belongs to Sirius. Yes, yes, I've seen him use it many times before."

Harry looked around. "Where are the others? Aren't I suppose to have 'bodyguards' or something? Not that I prefer it ..."

"Well, I guess they'll be arriving soon enough." Just as he said that, they both heard a bellowing, a shriek, some screaming and yelling from the Dursleys' living room. Lupin sighed. "Guess that would be them then," he told Harry, smiling grimly. Harry grinned back and the two of them dashed down the stairs to see if Lupin was right. Sure enough, he was.

Standing in the middle of all the commotion was Mad-Eye Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Elphias Doge and Dedalus Diggle. They appeared to have apparated in all of a sudden while the Dursleys were watching television. Aunt Marge was still screaming her head off. The sight of five people appearing out of nowhere with a loud 'CRACK!' certainly wasn't a very nice surprise.

"Wotcher, Harry," greeted Tonks, winking at him.

"How are you, Potter?" Moody grunted, his magical eye swivelling madly. Harry smiled at them.

"You!" Uncle Vernon said as he recognised Moody. Harry jumped. He had forgotten all about the Dursleys. Aunt Marge had stopped screaming but she was still staring wide-eyed at the members of the Order.

"Yes, me." said Moody threateningly. Moody turned to Harry and asked, "Have these muggles been treating you right?"

Harry grinned and shrugged. "The same," he said.

"Vernon! Who are these people?" said a voice all of a sudden. It was Aunt Marge. She seemed to have gotten over the shock rather quickly.

"They - er - " Harry knew Uncle Vernon was trying to do some quick thinking but before he had figured out what to say, Harry cut in.

"They're people from my school. Wizards." he said cheerfully. It was time for Aunt Marge to know the truth.

Aunt Marge's eye-brows shot up. "People from your school? Wizards?" she repeated. "Rubbish! There's no such thing as wizards, you treacherous little liar; and you go to St Brutus' School for - "

"No. I go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry ..." Behind Harry, Lupin and the others were grinning at the shocked look on Aunt Marge's face. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia looked furious though they didn't dare say anything in front of six fully armed wizards. Crouching behind his large father, Dudley was whimpering. "... and this is a wand," Harry continued, pulling out his wand from the waistband of his jeans.

Aunt Marge seemed to be speechless for a while but she managed to overcome it. "Oh no, you ungrateful worm! That is no wand! It is just a piece of wood and your freaky friends are no wizards," she smiled knowingly. "You've always been planning this little masquerade, haven't you?"

"What masquerade? I'm telling the truth! They're the ones who've been lying to you!" Harry said hopelessly, pointing at the Dursleys.

But Aunt Marge didn't seem to be listening. She was ecstatic at trying to prove Harry was lying. Harry thought she looked mad.

"I'm sure I'll be able to find a little button somewhere," she said, crawling around on her knees like one of her bulldogs, looking for the 'button' she seemed to think was there. "Yes, I know, you just press it and - 'POOF' - these crazy friends of yours appear, eh? And then you say it's magic! HA!"

This woman was crazy! Harry thought furiously. He saw Lupin exchanged a glance with Tonks. Obviously they had never met anyone who was so stubbornly refusing to believe in the existence of magic. Harry looked at Lupin and shrugged.

"Nevermind that mad woman, Potter," growled Moody who was suddenly beside him, looking at Aunt Marge who was still crawling on the floor with a look of deepest loathing and disgust. "Go get your trunk."

"I'll go with you!" Tonks volunteered. As Harry headed for the steps, he saw that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had rushed over to haul Aunt Marge of the floor while Dudley looked on with a terrified expression on his face.

When they had reached the solitudness of his room, Tonks spoke. "Was that woman mad?" she asked.

Harry laughed. "No. I guess she just refused to believe what I told her, maybe it's too big of a shock for her ... you know? I mean, the whole Dursley family hates magic." he explained, though he was also disquieted by Aunt Marge's reaction.

Tonks looked around Harry's room. "So, you're done packing. Good. Then we can leave sooner. Come on, let's go downstairs and see what's happened. Locomotor trunk," she said

Harry's trunk rose a few inches into the air. Holding her wand like a conductor's baton, Tonks made the trunk hover across the room and out of the door ahead of them, Hedwig's cage in her left hand. Harry followed her down the stairs carrying his Firebolt.

Downstairs in the living room, the Dursleys were all huddled into one corner, Aunt Marge trying to break free from Uncle Vernon who was restraining her. Lupin and Kingsley were whispering about something and Harry saw that the television was once again reporting on the missing Death Eaters. Mad-Eye was eyeing the Dursleys with disgust and Dedalus Diggle and Elphias Doge were examining the house with mild interest.

"He's here," growled Moody when he saw Harry and Tonks.

The wizards all stopped what they were doing and diverted their attention back to Harry. Lupin got up from the couch he was sitting on and rubbed his palms together. "Well, it's best if we get going now," he told the Dursleys, smiling. Aunt Petunia whimpered piteously.

"Elphias," Kingsley called to Elphias who was standing closest to the door. "Give them the signal."

Elphias took out his wand from inside his robes and opened the door. He then whispered something and bright red sparks flared among the now dark evening sky. After a few moments, green sparks exploded far, far above them.

"Okay, it's time. Potter, come here!" called Moody. Harry went forwards, still dragging his Firebolt. Moody took out his wand and Harry felt the familiar sensation of cold water trickling down his back. He knew Mad-Eye had put the Disillusionment Charm on him. A few feet away, he heard loud gasps coming from the Aunt Petunia and Dudley. Aunt Marge seemed too shock to open her mouth.

They all stepped outside on to Uncle Vernon's beautifully kept lawn.

"Clear night," Moody grunted, his magical eye scanning the heavens. "Could've done with a bit more cloud cover. Right, you," he barked at Harry, "we're going to fly in the same formation as last summer. Tonks'll be right in front of you. Lupin'll be covering you from below. I'm going to be behind you. Kingsley, Dedalus and Elphias will be circling us."

"That's our signal. Come on. Mount your brooms," Lupin said sharply as yellow sparks now flared among the stars. Tonks quickly let Hedwig out before strapping the cage and Harry's trunk into a harness hanging from her broom. Then they took off.

It felt great to be flying again and leaving the Dursleys. Harry smiled to himself as he remembered that he had just given Aunt Marge an unforgettable visit.

After what seemed like hours of flying in a cold night sky, they started to descend. Harry was grateful. His hands had already been numb by the coldness and he could hardly feel the Firebolt he was gripping.

Finally, they landed and Harry dismounted on a patch of unkempt grass in the middle of a square. Tonks, who had landed before him, was already unbuckling Harry's trunk. Shivering, Harry looked around as his guards landed. There was nothing welcoming about the grimy fronts of the surrounding houses. Harry sighed. They were at Grimmauld Place; Sirius' house.

Harry walked on to the pavement, and with a feeling of great gloom which had suddenly appeared in the pit of his stomach, entered the door which had materialised out of nowhere between house number eleven and thirteen.


End file.
